Nectar of the Gods
by biomechanical
Summary: An elite group of super rich have in their hands the proverbial fountain of youth with a Time Lord paying the price for their greed. When the Doctor lands at their facility, will he become their Nectar of the Gods? DW S3. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The Family aren't the only people in the universe who desire immortality. Here is a tale of some others striving to attain the proverbial fountain of youth.**

**I do not own Doctor Who.**

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><p>On a desolate planet in the far future, a fierce, cold wind cut across a barren valley surrounded by tall, snow covered mountains. Lightening flashed across the turbulent dark sky revealing no signs of life. Halfway up a steep slope lays the entrance to a large cave. The mouth of the cave, naturally invisible from above thanks to a rocky overhang, is a rather large portal into the earth, large enough for small space ships to enter.<p>

One such space ship pushed through the thick cloud layer and descended toward the mouth of the cave. The tiny craft slowly maneuvered through jagged rocks jutting out from all sides just inside the cave for the first fifty meters. Once clear, the tunnel became a downward slope with smooth, artificially carved walls. After about ten kilometers, the ship reached the end of the dark passageway and emerged into a vast chamber.

The sides and ceiling were rough and nondescript, the mere by-product of the machinery used to cut the chamber out of solid rock. The far wall was a gray slab of cement extending the entire height and width of the chamber. At the base of the cement wall, in the middle was an archway marking the entrance. The chamber floor was flat and paved, marked with painted lines and light strips typical of a multi-ship landing port. The port had enough spaces to accommodate forty small ships, but currently only eleven of those spaces, closest to the entrance, were occupied.

The newly arrived ship landed gently in an empty space next to another parked ship. A valet ran from the archway to greet the passengers, a man and a woman, as they exited their craft. The couple, dressed in fineries flaunting their wealthy status, walked arm in arm as they were escorted by the valet toward the archway. Once ushered through the main door, the couple was stopped at a second set of doors by a large human man in a nice, black suit sitting behind a chrome podium. The pair happily showed the man a card that proved their membership. He glanced at a monitor concealed in the podium, then opened the door for the couple to pass.

The main lobby of the facility was a large room of white painted walls and shining white marble tiles giving it an almost hospital feel. To the right of the lobby entrance stood a lone clear glass panel and to the left was a waiting area designated by a gray area rug with a black coffee table surrounded by a handful of white chairs. The middle-aged couple, who just arrived, moved to the waiting area, where eighteen other men and women stood socializing, and was greeted with open arms. Drinks were served by quiet waiters in tuxedos, and those gathered engaged themselves in friendly banter.

Finally, an anticipated announcement sounded through the lobby's speakers, and a refined excitement washed over the small crowd as they moved toward a pair of large doors across from the entrance. The doors opened and they entered an elevator chatting all the while in cheery voices. The elevator rose to the second floor and the men and woman were greeted by a group of guides in pressed suits. The excited guests of the facility were each led to their own small room. The rooms were large enough for an end table next to a single chair facing a thick floor to ceiling glass wall overlooking a large, three-story, circular room. In the center of the glass wall was a glass door that opened to a glass capsule, just large enough for a person to stand in. Once inside the rooms, the men and women stripped themselves of their finery, dressed in soft cotton dressing gowns and stepped into the capsules.

All eyes of the individuals in the capsules focused on the activity of the white circular room below. A glass cylinder connected to the ceiling extended down to about eight feet above the floor. Large clear tubes draped down from the ceiling and connected to the top of each capsule. On the floor, three computer panels on podiums faced the cylinder. Three technicians dressed in white lab coats worked at the computers while a fourth waited by the only entrance into the room.

Finally, the technicians nodded to the fourth, who pressed a button next to the entrance. The door slid open revealing an elderly man in his late sixties clothed in loose fitting white pants and a cotton pull over shirt. Directly behind him stood two humanoids in white jumpsuits and white helmets concealing their faces. The technician ushered the men inside falling in step next to the elderly man who marched forward with a solemn expression.

The elderly man stepped underneath the glass cylinder that lowered all the way to the floor, sealing him inside. He stood with his hands clasped in front him and raised his head to glare at the smiling faces in the capsules staring back at him. The hate in his deadpan stare boiled over in his faded blue eyes and he clinched his jaw to keep his rage contained. He learned a long time ago that fighting back was useless, but that didn't mean he couldn't hate.

The technician that escorted him to the cylinder gave the signal and the graying man drew in a slow breath in grim anticipation of what was coming next. He closed his eyes and there was a quick flash of white light in the cylinder. Instantly he felt the painful effects of the lethal dose of radiation and he pressed his hand against the glass to hold himself steady. He groaned and couldn't help but let his body slowly slump to the floor. With a quivering lip curled in a snarl, he saw the golden light on his hand grow ever brighter.

Suddenly, his body straightened and stiffened as he exploded with a burst of golden energy that filled the glass cylinder. The energy shot up through the cylinder and the sounds of a hidden machine whirred to life. After a few seconds, twenty hoses filled with faded yellow light that flowed like liquid to the capsules and washed over the occupants. In a moment, it was over, and the now young faces of the recipients cheered in overwhelming joy.

As the men and women left the capsules to celebrate their stolen youth, none paid any mind to the now dark haired man huddled on the floor in the glass cylinder. All they cared about was that now they would live a youthful life for another one hundred years. Money well spent. Not one of them gave a second thought about the regeneration ripped from the captive Time Lord, their Nectar of the Gods.

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One hundred years later.

"Martha!" the Doctor shouted as he frantically fished around in the pockets of his blue jacket and tan overcoat.

Martha Jones, who was sitting on the bench next to the console of the TARDIS, stared at him with a startled, worried look. "What is it?" she asked with growing alarm.

He paused and stared at her as if the universe just ended, "I'm out of bananas!"

Her mouth dropped open in disbelief as she watched him quickly push buttons and flip switches on the console sending the time machine who knows where.

"This is horrible, Martha," he spoke with utter seriousness, "I just can't do without bananas."

Once she realized the Doctor wasn't serious, or maybe he was and she hoped he wasn't, Martha couldn't help but laugh. "It's not the end of the world, is it?"

"Depends on which world," he shot her a teasing glance that quickly turned into a cheery grin, "so how does Hawaii sound?" Martha's smile grew wider as did his. "Say summer, nineteen sixty-nine," he continued, "What a fun year! Best bananas in the universe."

"That sounds fun! Maybe I can try out surfing."

The Doctor laughed, "It's not as easy as it looks. Fair warning."

"Does that mean you, the Doctor-who-can-do-anything, can't surf?" she teased.

He took mock offense, "I didn't say that!"

"Sounds like you'll have to prove it."

"You're on," he raised his eyebrows and pointed a finger at her, "After I get some bananas, of course."

The TARDIS shuddered slightly with a soft thud and the Doctor beamed, "Ah, Hawaii. Nineteen sixty-nine!"

Martha bound for the door in delight and opened it, coming to a sudden halt. The Time Lord followed behind her using the sonic to tint his glasses and he slid them onto his face with a smug grin. "Uh, Doctor," his companion said as she stared up at a dull, gray cement wall before her, "I don't think this is Hawaii."

He stepped past her out of the TARDIS, quickly tore off the glasses and stared up at the wall in disbelief. "Hm," he said sniffed the air, "Smells like the forty-second century." Martha stood next to him looking around at the vastness of the cavern they found themselves in. "Where are we?" she asked in quiet awe.

"I don't know, but I think he's about to tell us."

Martha dropped her gaze onto a suited valet quickly approaching them. "Good evening, sir and madam," the man, who appeared to be a human in his early forties, greeted them in a rushed tone. His expression showed a quick glimmer of confusion as he studied the pair, but resumed a neutral look.

"Hello," the Doctor answered pleasantly while closing the TARDIS doors behind him.

"Welcome to Nectar of the Gods," the valet continued, "Please, right this way." The man turned on his heel and quickly led the way toward to the arched entrance.

The Time Lord gave Martha that look of curiosity she'd come to know so well and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets as the two followed close behind the valet. Martha lightly tapped the Doctor's arm to get his attention and quietly mouthed, '_nectar of the gods_?' He shrugged his shoulders and mouthed back, '_No idea_.'

Martha nodded slowly and couldn't help but feel slightly worried. When the Doctor didn't know something, it meant things usually turned to disaster and ended up with the two of them running for their lives. She glanced behind her at the TARDIS and noted how out of place the little blue police box was sitting there in a designated space ship parking spot next to a proper space ship fifty times its size.

The valet opened the entrance doors and stood aside motioning for them to enter. The Time Lord's eyes ran over everything in sight, committing every detail to memory. The pair walked up to the interior double doors and stopped in front of a chrome podium where a large man in a suit sat behind.

"Names?" the man said with a bored tone as if he'd asked that question a hundred times.

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor answered evenly and motioned to his companion, "and this is Martha Jones." Martha smiled as pleasantly as she could.

The suited man looked down and glanced at something on the podium. He nodded slightly and looked at the Doctor expectantly. When the Time Lord gave him a blank look, he raised an eyebrow, "You're membership card?"

"Oh! Right! Of course," the Doctor chuckled as he dug into the pocket of his overcoat and produced his wallet. He opened it and held it up to the man. "See. Here it is. My Nectar of the Gods membership card," he showed him the psychic paper with a convincing grin. The man simply smiled, "Enjoy your stay, Doctor and Ms. Jones." The double doors opened and he watched Martha and the Doctor stride through.

Martha did not like the smile on that door man's face. It sent chills down her spine. A part of her wanted to just turn right around, get back in the TARDIS, and leave. Alas, she knew better than that. The Doctor's incorrigible curiosity would not, could not be swayed. So, she quickened her pace to remain at his side and entered Nectar of the Gods.

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The man at the podium waited until the doors closed behind the new arrivals and pushed a button on the podium's panel. "Sir, a Time Lord has just entered the facility," he reported in an even tone.

"A Time Lord?" replied the slightly surprised voice of a distinguished middle-aged man.

"Yes sir. He's wearing a blue suit and tan overcoat. The woman with him is human."

"Wonderful. You know what to do," the voice replied sounding quite pleased.

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><p><strong>AN: reviews would be wonderful! thank you**


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor paused in front of the free standing glass panel and ran his fingers across its smooth surface. The panel came to life displaying the name of the facility, Nectar of the Gods, followed by a paragraph of descriptive text. Putting on his glasses, he took them off again and frowned in slight annoyance. They were still tinted. He quickly used the sonic to change them to clear lenses and put them back on.

As he read the text, his eyebrows crunched closer together. Martha's attention was focused on the group of eighteen men and woman who appeared to be in their late fifties, if she had to guess. The group was gathered at a carpeted area enjoying wine and what sounded like cheerful conversation. Several of them shot curious glances at Martha and the Doctor.

"Martha," the Doctor said in low voice and she turned to the glass panel. "This place offers some sort of bath that claims to reverse aging and grant immortality. What do you think about that?" he finished thoughtfully.

"I think we should go say hello," she motioned to the gathered group of people.

He looked over with raised eyebrows, "Ah, yes." He took off his glasses, stuffing them and the sonic back into an interior jacket pocket, and pasted on a cheerful smile. With an air of cocky confidence, he strode over to the group with Martha right beside him.

When the Doctor was close enough, a graying woman in a long purple dress took his hand into her own. "Welcome, newcomers. I'm Mrs. Clemens," she said with pseudo-pleasantry giving the Doctor a wolfish smile.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm the Doctor," he replied with his usual charm as he gently slid his hand out of hers. Mrs. Clemens obviously regretted letting the Doctor's hand go when he moved on to make introductions with the others.

"Oh my, a doctor," she cooed after him as he moved away from her. To Martha, the woman looked like she wanted to gobble him right up. Don't bet it on it, lady, Martha thought, narrowing her eyes.

"A doctor? A silly profession considering, don't you think?" one Mr. Patton, a stout man with a large belly, said to the Doctor with a patronizing laugh.

The Time Lord accepted an offered glass of wine from a waiter and took a sip, "Why do you say that?"

"Leave the good doctor alone, Mr. Patton," interjected another man slightly shorter than the Doctor and of stockier build, "What he decides to do with his longevity is his business." Mr. Patton rolled his eyes and turned his attention away to other conversations.

The gentleman who made the abrupt interruption introduced himself as Mr. Cantwell. "Doctor, if you don't mind my saying, but you and you're lovely wife do seem a bit young for the nectar," he asked with a scrutinizing look like he expected to catch the Doctor off guard.

"Oh, Martha's not my wife," the Doctor took another drink from the wine glass. He wanted to ask about what the nectar was, but knew it would be an odd question to ask since it certainly seemed like everyone here was by strict invitation.

Mr. Cantwell gave a knowing smile and laughed, "Indeed, Doctor. Indeed."

"Attention Nectar of the Gods guests," a sweet female voice sounded over the intercom, "Please proceed to your designated Receiving Lounges. Thank you."

The group raised their wine glasses and cheered. "It's a shame Mr. and Mrs. Lorrent couldn't be here," Mrs. Clemens said nonchalantly to Martha as the group moved toward a pair of doors.

"Why couldn't they be here?" Martha asked.

"Bad business decisions, apparently," the woman explained, "They went bankrupt about seventy years ago and can't afford the nectar anymore. A part of me will miss them, but I'm sure you and I will become fast friends." Martha smiled and nodded with a 'yeah right' expression, then excused herself to fall into step with the Doctor behind the group.

"Something's up here, Martha," the Doctor whispered in a serious tone, "I can feel it." Martha nodded in silent agreement. "You know what the worst part is," he continued with the same seriousness as they entered the elevator with others, "I still don't have any bananas."

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Martha entered the Receiving Lounge and made her way for the glass wall. When their guide asked if they needed anything else, the Doctor replied, "Bananas. About five. No. Six. Wait. Make that seven. And make sure their ripe. Not too brown, not too green, but a nice ripe yellow." Martha heard the man say he would bring them right away and she sighed with a soft smile at the Time Lord's quest for the fruit.

Once the door closed, the Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and joined Martha at the wall. "Wow," he spoke after a moment with wonder in his voice as he looked out over the circular room below, "Quite the set up."

Martha nodded as she observed the three computer podiums, the glass cylinder that stretched to the ceiling and the transparent tubes that connected to the capsules of twenty Receiving Lounges ringed around the room. She was impressed by what she saw. "What is it?" she asked finally.

"Some sort of machine for processing whatever they put in that cylinder. I haven't seen anything like it. Love that," he said with a sense of thrill, "keeps life interesting and means I'll have to learn everything there is to know about it."

"Look," she pointed to the capsules of the lounges in their view. The men and women they'd met in the lobby were now dressed in white robes and standing in the capsules. Martha noticed only one capsule in the ring of overlooking lounges was empty and that struck her odd for some reason she hadn't quite put together yet.

She and the Doctor's gaze shifted to the floor below when the lab's entrance door slid open revealing a dark haired man clothed in white pants and shirt. With the helmeted guards carrying chrome gun looking devices behind him, it was clear he was there against his will.

It hit him suddenly. The Doctor felt a feeling he thought he would never, ever feel again, the presence of another Time Lord. "Impossible," he gasped with wide eyed surprise. Martha looked up to see his face and it wasn't the curious expression he'd worn since they got here, it was pure utter shock. That look scared her for she didn't think anything could shock the Doctor, not like this.

"Doctor, what's impossible?" she asked with concern thick in her voice.

He pulled his hands out of the coat pockets and placed both palms on the glass wall. "He's a Time Lord," he was still in shock and disbelief.

"What?" Martha was instantly flabbergasted. "I thought you were the only Time Lord?"

"I thought so too, but somehow," he stared wide eyed, "he escaped the Time War and my detection till now. But what's he doing here?"

She looked back down at the man who was now standing somberly underneath the glass cylinder. As the glass lowered into place, he gazed up at the Doctor with a grim look of recognition.

The Doctor looked on, still unsure of what was about to happen, of what this place was. His eyes darted over the contents of the room, trying to figure it out. The Time Lord in the cylinder stood still with his hands clasped in front of him and held his gaze on the Doctor as the expected white light flashed around him.

"Radiation!" the Doctor's exclaimed in horrific realization. As the man slowly slumped to the floor in agonizing death, the Doctor slammed his fists on the glass wall with dull, resounding thuds. "_NO_!" he screamed.

Martha couldn't believe she just witnessed a man murdered before her very eyes and as if hypnotized, she couldn't look away even at the Doctor's outburst beside her.

The captive Time Lord suddenly burst into the golden brightness of regenerative energy that shot up through the cylinder into the ceiling and a faded yellow light filtered through the tubes pouring into the eighteen occupied capsules.

"Monsters!" the Doctor pounded on the glass wall in fury.

Martha knew that what was happening was terrible, but she didn't quite understand the implications. "Doctor, what's happening?" she pleaded, "I don't understand."

He turned to her and held her shoulders with a wild look in his eye. "They're using the regenerative energy of a Time Lord to stay young, Martha!" he quickly explained, "Killing him each time to make him regenerate so they can siphon the power _for their greedy little selves._ That is the Nectar of the Gods!"

With her mouth agape, she managed to ask, "If you can regenerate, does that mean you can't die?"

"Oh yes, we can die," he fumed, "We can regenerate only twelve times."

"Oh my g…" her eyes widen in horror, "W-we've got to help him!"

"Right we do!" he vaulted over the chair, his overcoat flowing behind him like a tan cape, and right when he landed on his feet, there was a click at the door.

Through a small window in the door, the Doctor could see a white helmet matching the guards he saw below. He pulled out the sonic and as the door opened, he aimed the screwdriver at the guard. Martha heard the noise of the sonic and the click of a gun the guard. A dart pegged the Doctor square in the chest as the guard collapsed from the effect of the sonic. She looked on in horror as the Time Lord clutched the dart with an angry, pained look before falling unconscious to the floor.

"Doctor!" she cried taking a step forward. In an instant, she understood what struck her odd about the one empty capsule; there was supposed to be only one person per lounge, but she and the Doctor were put in one together, which meant only one thing, this trap must have been planned from when they first walked into the place.

A second guard stepped in and aimed a dart gun at Martha. She gasped wide eyed when she heard the gun click and felt the dart pierce her shoulder. There was no time cry out when darkness filled her vision and she too succumbed to unconsciousness.

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><p><strong>AN: Please take the time to post a review and thank you!  
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	3. Chapter 3

When Martha opened her eyes, she instantly regretted it. She was in a small room with white walls, floor and ceiling, and bright white light shining from above. The brightness of it all sent needles of pain throughout her head that pounded with the worst headache she'd ever felt. She went to raise her right hand to rub her temple, but realized she was cuffed to the chair she sat on. Even her ankles were bound.

This isn't happening, she grumbled to herself. At first, she was annoyed with the Doctor for getting her into this sort of situation. Again. But then she remembered the Time Lord forced to regenerate in that chamber and realized the same must be in store for the Doctor.

She wasn't sure exactly what she could do at this point, but she had to do something. As she mentally went over some potential plans, the door to her cell opened. She looked up hesitantly, afraid of what she might see, only to recognize the man that now stood in front of her.

"Mr. Cantwell?" she asked, confused.

"Pleasure to meet you again, Ms. Jones," a younger looking Cantwell replied coolly.

"Where's the Doctor?" she demanded as she fought against the cuffs to no avail, "What have you done with him?"

"Don't worry about the Time Lord, Ms. Jones, he's in good hands."

Martha gulped at the odious implications of the comment. "What you're doing here is wrong, Mr. Cantwell," she pleaded, "You've got to stop this."

"What's so wrong about wanting to live forever?"

"You're killing someone to do it!"

"Ms. Jones," he bent towards her slightly, "The Time Lords are a very selfish race. How dare they learn the secrets of eternal youth and keep it to themselves. While they get to live thousands of years, the rest of us die. I simply think they should share."

Martha crunched her eyebrows and stared up at this man she now abhorred with every fiber of her being. "Now, I want to know about the Time Lord you came here with," he continued, "How many times has he regenerated?"

"I don't know," Martha answered under her breath.

"How many times?" he screamed in a sudden outburst.

She flinched and blurted out, "I don't know! I just found out he could!"

Mr. Cantwell narrowed his eyes at her and seemed to consider that she might be telling the truth. He turned around and left the room without another word, slamming the door shut behind him.

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As the Doctor regained his senses, he was aware of how chilled his right cheek was. He considered this and figured that he must be laying face down on a cold, hard floor. His eyes fluttered open and confirmed he was indeed correct. Moving his arms came next. He bent his elbows, pressing his palms to the floor, and pushed himself up to his knees.

Once he was sitting upright, his head throbbed as the effect of the tranquilizer wore off. He rubbed the side of his head to relieve the headache a bit and looked down at himself. He was wearing the same type of white clothes he saw on the other Time Lord.

Martha and the other Time Lord! The Doctor glanced over his surroundings and learned he was in a small cell with thick glass walls, save for the back wall that was white painted brick. His cell was one of four on his side of a short corridor and four on the opposite side. All the other cells were empty.

The Doctor realized he didn't see what happened to the other Time Lord after the regeneration. Was that his last one, the Doctor wondered with horror. He certainly hoped not. And where had they taken Martha? They had better not hurt her. Anger grew in his chest at the thought and he jumped to his feet forcing him to notice for the first time that he was barefoot, though he didn't pay it much mind.

Visually, the Time Lord scanned every detail of his cell and immediate surroundings searching for anything he could use as a tool. There was nothing. Clearly they knew how to detain a Time Lord. Frustrated, he stepped up and pounded his fists on the glass door. "Where's Martha?" he screamed looking up to any place a camera might be hidden. He pounded on the door again, "What have you done with her?"

As if on cue, the door that led out of the cellblock opened and a young man in his early twenties slowly walked in followed by two helmeted guards. The Doctor's eyes fell on the young man with auburn hair and recognized him instantly as the other Time Lord.

The Time Lord entered the cell next to the Doctor's and stood solemnly as he waited for the guards to leave. Finally, when they were alone, the Doctor ran up to the wall between them and beamed. "What's your name?" he said fighting back tears of joy.

The other Time Lord turned and regarded the Doctor with blank expression. "Larson," he said at last in a flat tone. The Doctor's smile grew wider in overflowing happiness, "Hello, Larson. I'm the Doctor and I am so very, very happy to meet you!"

Larson raised a cynical eyebrow. "The Doctor?" he nodded with a disapproving frown, "of all the people in the universe, I end up with _you_ in the cell next door."

The Doctor's smiled faltered at the other Time Lord's negative reaction, "You know who I am?"

"Of course I know who are," he snapped. "The renegade who stole a TARDIS and went gallivanting through the universe leaving a trail of broken time lines in your wake? Yes, I know you, Doctor. I was one of several sent by Rassilon to find you," Larson finished and crossed his arms.

"Really?" the Doctor couldn't help but marvel at the coincidence.

"Yes, and I was on your trail when Cantwell caught me."

"How? Where?"

"While I was tracking you, I landed on Vega One following up on some clues on your whereabouts," Larson started.

"Ah, Vega One," the Doctor smiled fondly at the memory, "I remember Vega One. They play a mean game of cricket there."

"Yes," Larson was not amused, "may I continue?" The Doctor nodded looking like a scolded schoolboy.

"As you know, Vega One hosted the Persistent Market Square and as usual was packed with aliens from hundreds of galaxies. I was tracing the signature of what I hoped was your TARDIS, when, right in the middle of the crowd, I was shot with a tranquilizer from behind. When I woke up, I was here. Almost immediately, I was forced to regenerate for _them_, but I was sure rescue was on its way soon. Cantwell had my TARDIS and it could be tracked. In the meantime, I tried to fight them, tried to escape, but it was no use.

A century and a regeneration later, I began to doubt I would be rescued, especially when I learned about the dampening field on this place. Then, Cantwell forced me to pilot my TARDIS to use it in his search for other Time Lords. We found none anywhere in time and space. That was how I learned of the Time War, the burning of Gallifrey, and the fate of all the Time Lords in the universe.

After that, Cantwell gave up the search, and he destroyed my TARDIS so I wouldn't ever be able to use it to escape and change his history. I've been imprisoned here every since. Sure, I could have chosen not to regenerate as an escape, but I believed I was the only Time Lord left. I couldn't let our species end like this, so I held on to hope for rescue. And now here you are, the very same renegade I was tracking down all those years ago."

The Doctor's face was pained during Larson's tale, but softened toward the end. With a small smile he said, "Funny how things come full circle."

Larson replied with a small smile of his own and lowered himself to the floor, crossing his legs underneath him. The Doctor followed suit and asked, "How long have you been here?"

The other Time Lord thought about this a moment, "I was my second incarnation when Cantwell caught me and you witnessed my eleventh regeneration. A thousand years."

"He stole your entire life," the Doctor whispered in horror. He couldn't imagine being caged up his entire existence. He was such a free spirit; he knew his own soul would have broken centuries ago.

"Yes, he and the others," Larson spoke with a controlled anger, but shoved it back and asked, "Tell me, what incarnation of you am I seeing?"

"The tenth," he smirked, "Cantwell won't get much out of me, will he?"

"It seems not," Larson smirked as well, "So how did he catch you?"

"Well, Martha and I were on our way to Hawaii. Oh, it's a place on planet Earth," he explained in answer to Larson's questioning look, "it's beautiful with warm weather, sunny blue skies and great bananas. Wait till you see it, you will _love_ it. Anyway my TARDIS landed here by mistake. I had no idea what this place was when I walked in." He finished with a shrug of his shoulder.

Larson cracked a smile and chuckled, "You really are great idiot, aren't you?"

"Uh yeah, I suppose so," the Doctor laughed.

"Who's Martha?"

"Martha's a wonderful, brave, smart girl. She's a human from twenty-first century Earth and she's a friend who's been traveling with me. I really hope she's alright."

"I have no way of knowing what they might do with her," the other Time Lord shook his head, "but I can't imagine it's good."

"Well then, I guess this here renegade is our only hope, Obi Wan," the Doctor shot the other Time Lord a wink and smile, which turned into a frown at another questioning look from Larson. "It's from a movie," he started to explain, "Oh, never mind. It's an Earth thing. Now tell me all about this place and maybe we can figure out a way of getting out of here."

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><p><strong>AN: reviews are appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews and compliments! I'm stoked you're enjoying the story :) I did update the last chapter to remove the CIA reference (I learned the agency came to be after the Doctor was caught). Here goes!**

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><p>Martha was about to burst into tears. She'd been sitting cuffed to that chair for what seemed like hours and she had no idea whatsoever on how to change her situation. Most of all, she feared for the Doctor. Where had they taken him? Was he alright? Had they forced him into that horrible machine? Her mind was spinning with questions and there she was, unable to do anything. She closed her tear-filled eyes as she felt herself slip deeper into despair.<p>

Suddenly, there was a click at the door and Martha opened her eyes. In stepped a blonde haired man in his mid-forties wearing white slacks, a white jacket and carrying a large satchel slung over his shoulder. Martha recognized him as the technician who walked alongside that Time Lord as he entered that cylinder. She glowered at the man.

The technician gently closed the door behind him. "My name is Jordan and I'm here get you out of here," he said urgently as he knelt beside her chair. Martha, shocked and a bit confused, relaxed her dark glare. "Thank you, but why are you doing this?" she asked watching him open a panel on the chair.

"This whole thing has gone on long enough," Jordan said not taking his eyes off as he pushed a couple of buttons on a keypad, "I'm tired of being a prisoner here."

With a definite click, the cuffs opened simultaneously and Jordan quickly stood up. Martha slid out of the chair and regarded Jordan a moment. "You're a prisoner?" she asked finally.

"Yes. We all are. The other technicians, the waiters, the valets…everyone except the guards, those are robots. Cantwell won't let any of us leave. He just keeps us all frozen in cryo-stasis until it's time for more nectar."

"Why didn't you try to escape before now?"

"Thought about it, but it _was_ coming to an end soon and I looked forward to freedom. Now, it's not going to end, it'll just keep going. Now, come on. We need to get moving." He and Martha ran out the door.

"Wait. What do you mean, coming to an end but now it isn't?" Martha asked once they were jogging down a corridor.

"The Time Lord can regenerate one last time after today," Jordan explained, "One more century and this would have all been over, but now we have a new Time Lord. So how much longer will it continue? Another thousand years? No, thanks."

They quickly ran through a door that Jordan was able to open by entering a number on a keypad on the wall and entered what appeared to be a large storage warehouse. "Where are you taking me?" Martha asked.

"To your TARDIS. Cantwell had it taken down to his private ship dock to be destroyed. That's why I rescued you, I need you fly it since those ships only respond to their pilots."

Martha stopped in her tracks. "Hang on," she said sounding quite angry, "You mean to tell me your plan was to save yourself? What about the Doctor and the other Time Lord?"

He stopped to face her with an angry glare. "They're as good as dead, Martha," he said in a grim stern tone, "So come on!" Jordan grabbed her by the arm.

She yanked her arm free, "No! I am _not_ leaving without the Doctor!"

"There is no chance the two of us can rescue them!" he insisted frantically.

"The Doctor wouldn't give up on me and I'm not giving up on him. I'm going back," she turned to run back out of the storage room when Jordan sighed and called out to her. Martha stopped to hear what he had to say.

"Alright. I'll help you," he looked to the floor as his guilt won, "but we don't have any weapons."

Martha pondered the situation and let her eyes fall on the satchel. "What's in your bag?"

"Oh. There might be something in here we can use," he crouched down, opened the bag and pulled out a jacket. A very familiar blue suit jacket to be exact. He tossed it up to Martha and started yanking out a tan overcoat.

"These are the Doctor's clothes," Martha crunched her eyebrows as she held the jacket in her hands. "Why do you have the Doctor's clothes in your satchel, Jordan?" she demanded.

"Time Lord clothing always have dimensionally transcendental pockets," he explained evenly as he examined the Doctor's wallet, "I figured there might be something useful, so I was going to search them later."

Martha wanted to slap him. Hard. "You're disgusting," she practically snarled at him. Jordan slumped with a sigh. He looked up at her with shame playing across his face, "Look. I'm just trying to get out of here. That's all I was thinking about. I'm sorry."

She stared down at Jordan with a hard, scrutinizing glare that relaxed after a moment when she realized he had a point. There might be something useful in the Doctor's pockets. As a matter of fact, she was certainly hoped there was.

Pulling her gaze off Jordan, Martha found the inside pocket of the jacket, reached in and felt…nothing. No feel of fabric or items that might be inside. It was like feeling the air. Oh, this is _weird_, she thought as she moved her hand around inside the pocket. How am I supposed to find the sonic screwdriver in this, she wondered. Suddenly, she felt something cylindrical, cool and metal in her hand. She yanked her hand out of the pocket and stared in astonishment at the sonic in her grip. _Telepathic_ dimensionally transcendental pockets, she realized.

"A sonic tool? That definitely helps," Jordan stood and stared at the object in Martha's hand with a smile. "Anything else in there?" he asked. "Not that I can think of," she answered. He took the jacket out of her hands and stuffed everything back into the satchel. "We'd better hurry. We don't have much time if you care about stopping them from regenerating your Doctor."

"Why?" Martha asked slightly confused, "I thought the 'nectar' was given out every one hundred years and they just did that, right?"

"The system is designed to process two doses of regenerative energy," he zipped the bag closed and stood up, "one dose reverses aging and the second extends the lifespan by centuries. Because Cantwell couldn't find a second Time Lord, he had the processor calibrated to do both with one dose to preserve the limited amount of regenerations. Only it's not as effective. It only turns back about twenty years of aging and extends life about a century. It's a complicated procedure, really, and there's been plenty of time to refine it. Anyway, now that Cantwell and the clients are already young looking, he's going to use the new Time Lord to extend their lives for as many centuries as the system will allow."

"Stop calling him 'the new Time Lord'," she snapped, "His name is the Doctor."

"Sorry," Jordan replied sheepishly.

Martha took a deep breath as she calmed herself and processed the information. It all sounded so horrible to her, and unthinkably selfish. And now the Doctor is next in line to be sucked dry by these awful people. The thought made her feel dirty, but it also made her furious.

"Well, sounds like we don't have much time," she replied gravely, "lead the way."

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.

.

"What about our DNA in the regenerative energy?" the Doctor asked, fascinated by the process, even though it used for a terrible cause. Of course, the more he knew about it, the easier it will be for him to stop it. Larson had told the Doctor everything he knew about the facility; cryogenic stasis, the robotic guards, and the processing machine.

"It's all filtered out so it doesn't affect the recipient," the Time Lord replied.

Just then, the entrance to the cell block opened. The Doctor sprang to his feet and ran to the cell door. "Where's Martha?" he angrily demanded. Two guards followed by a technician entered the corridor and stopped in front of the Doctor's cell. "Answer me!" Their silence made the Doctor even more furious. The technician released the locking mechanism on the cell door and quickly stepped back behind the guards, who raised their dart guns when the door slid open.

Larson saw the Doctor's body tense and predicted what he was about to do. "There's no point in fighting, Doctor," he called out but it was too late to convince his fellow Time Lord. The Doctor rushed forward and planted his right shoulder square in the chest of the guard, sending it staggering backwards.

The other robot guard squeezed the trigger of its dart gun and shot the Doctor in the lower back. The Time Lord arched his back then dropped to his knees as the tranquilizer immediately took effect. The guards wasted no time picking the Doctor up by his arms and dragging him out of the cell block followed closely by the technician.

The other Time Lord observed that the Doctor wasn't completely unconscious. He knew they had wanted him conscious for regeneration. His eyebrows rose as he deduced that Cantwell was going to take advantage of a second Time Lord while he had the chance and extend his youth by centuries. Larson sighed in despair. It seemed like the chapter in history of the great Time Lords was finally coming to a close.

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><p><strong>AN: keep the reviews coming, I love reading them :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Martha and Jordan moved quickly down an empty service corridor. All the staff seemed to be preparing for the next dose of nectar and must be busy elsewhere, or so Martha hoped. She adjusted the satchel on her shoulder as she ran. She had demanded the bag of the Doctor's belongings from Jordan, insisting that she carry it.

"The cell block is right down here," Jordan said as he rushed to a steel door. He frantically pushed a series of numbers on the keypad and frowned when the door wouldn't open.

"What's wrong?" Martha stood next to Jordan and looking behind her nervously.

"The door won't open!" he put his hand on his forehead, "They must have changed the codes when I didn't report to the lab. Use the sonic tool."

Martha still held the sonic in her hand and now she stared at with a panicked look. "I don't know how," she mumbled.

"What?" Jordan exclaimed, "That's it then. Let's go."

"No! Just wait a minute." Martha closed her eyes and tried to remember the number the Doctor told her to use to open that access panel on that one ship they were on. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and changed the setting on the sonic. She aimed the sonic at the door handle.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Jordan asked with worry as he took a step back.

"Simple little access panel. Sophisticated electronic door lock. What's the difference?" she said without much confidence at all. She turned the sonic on and it emitted a high pitched squeal. With a click, the door opened before them.

"I did it!" she jumped for joy and pushed the door open all the way, dashing down the corridor with Jordan close behind her. "Doctor?" she called out as she ran past the empty cells. She came to a stop in front of the only cell that had someone in it.

Martha feared that the auburn haired, young man who was climbing to his feet was the Doctor. Oh no, she thought as she watched him approach her, I'm too late. He's regenerated.

"My name is Larson, the Time Lord you saw in the chamber earlier. You're Martha, I presume," the young man said in an even tone. She exhaled a sigh of relief. He wasn't the Doctor.

"Yes. I'm Martha," she used the sonic on the door that responded by sliding open, "where's the Doctor?"

"They took him to the lab about ten minutes ago," Larson's gaze fell on Jordan as he stepped out of his cell, "What are you doing here?"

"I want freedom. Just like you," Jordan answered sincerely, but shrank back under the Time Lord's harsh scrutiny.

Martha stepped between the two men and handed the sonic to Larson, "You know how to use this, right?"

The Time Lord took the sonic and examined it, "It's seems a bit more complicated than the one I used to have, but I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"Good," she smiled encouragingly, "because I really could use your help saving the Doctor. Come on!"

Martha started for the door. Larson gave Jordan one final anger-filled glare, then turned and followed her out of the cell block with Jordan not to close behind.

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The Doctor's head was foggy. He barely remembered being shot with the tranquilizer dart and dragged to wherever he was now. The tranquilizer wasn't as strong as the first time, he noted. He was able to maintain a small amount of consciousness, but not much. Slowly, he regained full awareness of his surroundings. He was lying in the fetal position on the floor inside a large glass cylinder. He quickly climbed to his feet and looked above him. Yes, it was just has he thought as he stared up at the dark hole into the processing machine above.

Looking outside his cylindrical prison, his fury grew as he watched the technicians at the computer consoles busily working away seemingly without a care for what they were doing. He looked up to the capsules of the Receiving Lounges circling the lab and became even more furious at the youthful smiling faces peering eagerly down at him. Finally, his eyes landed on Cantwell and his fury boiled over.

"Cantwell!" he screamed and pounded on the glass cylinder that resounded each hit with a reverberating thud. Cantwell wore a smug smile as he looked down at the captive Time Lord.

Seeing that he had Cantwell's attention, and he didn't care how he was able to hear him, the Doctor held a deadly serious gaze. "Listen to me, Cantwell," he snarled, "I'm warning you. You get only one chance, stop this right now!"

Cantwell shook in laughter and mouthed the word, 'no' with a victorious smile. The Doctor held his gaze, but drew in a breath when he heard a whirring noise and recognized it as a generator that produced the radiation. This was it then. He wasn't sure how he was going to get out of regenerating this time, but Cantwell sealed his fate and the Doctor never breaks his word. He heard a technician announce they were ready to begin the sequence. The Doctor continued to hold his ground and his dark gaze on Cantwell as he prepared to die.

"Doctor?"

Surprised, the Doctor spun around and smiled wide at a woman in blue jeans and a red leather jacket. "Martha!" he cheered.

She froze, gawking at seeing him in the cylinder. "Stop the machine, Martha," he pointed frantically at the computer console nearest her. She jumped into action and ran up to a technician screaming at him to turn it off. At the same time, Larson ran to another console, shoved the technician to the ground and waved the sonic over it. Sparks flew out of the panel and the whirring sound of the radiation generator fell silent. Relieved, the Doctor leaned against the cylinder wall.

He was still trapped inside the cylinder and felt helpless when he saw a robot guard appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, aiming its dart gun at Martha. But Martha saw the guard and swung her satchel around holding it front of her like a shield. The dart hit the satchel and she took off running away from the robot.

The three technicians had crept out of the way and ran out of the lab, leaving the computers unguarded. Larson dashed to intercept the robot chasing Martha and disabled it with the sonic, and then moved on to the next computer podium. A second guard from the corner of the room aimed a dart gun at Larson and was tackled by the blonde technician the Doctor recognized from earlier. The robot's helmeted head cracked open on the floor revealing wires and circuit boards that the man promptly ripped out. It twitched a couple of times, and then remained still.

Yells and shouts drew the Doctor's attention up to the capsules above. Cantwell's wealthy clients were clearly upset with the disruption. The Doctor stared at each and every one of the twisted young faces deciding what he was going to do with them. When his eyes fell on Cantwell, who was no longer smiling, he held a ferocious cold glare like an angry lion waiting to tear something apart.

Finally, the glass cylinder lifted and a joyous Martha ran up to the Doctor, who happily took her in his arms. "Thank you, Martha Jones," he said appreciatively with his head on her shoulder. He released the embrace and took a step back as he looked over her. "Are you alright?" he asked with concern, "Did they hurt you?"

She shook her head, "No, Doctor, they didn't hurt me. What about you?"

"I'm fine," he reassured her with a warm smile.

"Um, I hate to interrupt, but Cantwell is getting away."

The Doctor and Martha looked at the man who spoke, and the Doctor raised a scrutinizing eyebrow. "Oh, Doctor, this is Jordan. He helped me," Martha said.

"Hi," Jordan smiled sheepishly, though shame was written across his face. The Doctor didn't move, which made Jordan more nervous.

"Listen, I'm sorr-"

"Right then," the Doctor interrupted Jordan and brushed past him running for the lab entrance. Martha gave Jordan a sad look, and then ran after the Doctor.

When the Doctor passed Larson waiting for them at the door, he skidded to a stop and asked, "Is that my sonic screwdriver?"

"Yes. Do you want it back?" the Time Lord offered evenly.

"Nah, hang on to it," the Doctor waved it off and continued running, "It looks good on you!"

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><p><strong>AN: next chapter coming up soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you DawnCandace and James Birdsong for the reviews!**

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><p>A service door at the far wall of the lobby flew open with an echoing bang and the Doctor ran through it at full speed. Larson, Martha, and Jordan followed after him. The eighteen youthful recipients of the nectar from Larson's regeneration had gathered on the carpeted waiting area. Judging by their whiney voices, Martha knew they were complaining angrily about what happened. They carried the same sort of annoyance one might have if their fast food order was wrong. It made her sick.<p>

The Doctor headed right for them, his eyes scanning every face present. All eyes in the group were on him with a mix of shock, anger and fear because they recognized him and as corrupt as they were, a small part of them knew that what they had taken part of was wrong. "He's not here," the Time Lord hissed in frustration as Martha caught up to him. She stopped and bent over to catch her breath from the sprinting they just did. He double checked the crowd for Cantwell.

"Where's Cantwell?" he barked at the group.

"You there!" a man from the group shouted and stomped up to the Doctor in a huff. "How dare you cheat us of the nectar," he stabbed his finger into the Time Lord's chest, "We paid good money for that!" Martha's mouth dropped at the audacity of those words. She looked at the Doctor and she'd seen that face once before, the deadly serious look he gets when confronted by something he finds wholly and utterly disgusting.

Suddenly, Larson leaped from behind the Doctor and grabbed the man up by his throat, slamming him into a couple of shrieking women. "What about the life you stole from _me_?" Larson's eyes bulged in rage. He glared at the rest of them, "All of you stole my life! You don't deserve to live!" For a moment, Martha thought he was going to kill the man right there on the spot, but instead he released him with a snarl of disgust. The man now looked small and pitiful as he promptly fell choking and gasping to the floor.

"He's right," the Doctor spoke with dark intent that surprised Martha. She didn't think she would ever hear the Doctor agree to murder. Has this changed him somehow, she worried. "You are going to go," the Doctor continued like he was laying down a curse, "and live out the rest of your short, miserable lives knowing that in one hundred year's time, you are going to succumb to that which you fear the most," he paused to look them all in the eye. "Death," he finished with a dark tone. Martha was relieved once she understood what the Doctor had meant.

The selfish men and women cried out in protest at the two Time Lords. Larson ordered them to leave, but only received another wave of protests. "We want a refund!" a woman called out. Finally, the Doctor had enough.

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" he bellowed with such ferociousness, Martha involuntarily jumped along with the people it was directed at. That was what it took, though, and they all scurried out the main entrance in rushed flurry of wealthy pompousness leaving the lobby pleasantly quiet.

"What about Cantwell?" Martha asked.

The Doctor jumped in front of Jordan, grabbed his shoulders, which visibly startled the poor technician, and asked, "Where else would Cantwell go, Jordan? Does he have a ship or super secret hidey room? Think!"

"S-ship," Jordan stammered. "He has a ship, but not out there," he quickly added when the Doctor looked at the main entrance doors, "it's down in his private landing dock."

The Doctor was about to chastise Jordan for not saying that in the first place when he was interrupted by a pleasant female voice piping through the intercom.

"Attention Nectar of the Gods guests, this facility has been set to destroy itself."

"Self destruct?" the Doctor exclaimed incredulously, "Who uses self destruct anymore?"

"Please remain calm," the voice continued, "as you proceed to the main entrance and exit to the ship dock. You have five minutes to reach minimum safe distance."

"Oooohhh, five minutes!" said the Doctor with a manic grin, "Now we're talking _fun_!"

"Are you crazy?" Jordan panicked, "We've got to get out of here and there's barely enough time to get to your TARDIS in Cantwell's ship dock!"

"Guess we'll have to disarm the self destruct, then," he gave Jordan an expectant glare.

"Follow me," the technician groaned and ran back to the service door.

The Doctor smiled and cried, "Allons-y!"

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There they were, running for their lives. Again. Just as predicted, Martha thought with a mix of chagrin and amusement. The Doctor walked in to this place without knowing a thing about it and now they were mostly likely going to die. Again. Ah, well. Fleeing life threatening danger was worth it for the chance to be with the Doctor, she decided.

"Hey, Martha," the Doctor asked her as they ran full speed down the corridor.

"Yeah?" she replied.

"Remember when we first met and I was barefoot as we ran down the hospital hall and my feet made that funny little slapping sound with every step?"

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, wondering what that had to do with the situation they were in. "Yeah," she answered with a questioning frown.

He pointed down with a wide cheeky grin and giggled. Martha eye's followed the pointing finger and she saw that he was bare foot once again and his feet was indeed making that funny little slapping sound with every step. Her hardened expression of fear and worry cracked, and she couldn't help but laugh. She was always amazed by the Doctor's ability to make her smile in the darkest hour. She was glad that this situation hadn't changed him like she thought earlier.

"Attention Nectar of the Gods guests, you now have three minutes to evacuate this facility and reach minimum safe distance."

Martha cursed the horridly pleasant voice for reminding her she now has three minutes to live. Finally, they reached the door they were running toward and Larson quickly used the sonic to break the lock. He kicked the door open and a red beam of condensed light shot out burning a hole clean through Larson's chest. The force of the laser blast knocked him against the wall. As he slid down the wall clutching the gaping wound with one hand that quickly filled with orange-red blood, he aimed the sonic in his other hand into the room and activated it.

"Oh no, no, no, no!" the Doctor cried as he leapt to Larson's side. Jordan shrank back several steps in horror, and Martha dared a look into the room and saw a man holding a weird looking 'space' pistol. She recognized him as the door man at the podium with the creepy smile. He looked at her and smiled that same smile. The second he squeezed the trigger, the pistol violently exploded. He screamed and fell to the floor behind a computer panel.

Martha was at Larson's side, using her medical skills to try to stop the bleeding. The Doctor held Larson's hand fighting to hold back tears. "I'm so sorry," the Doctor whispered. Larson coughed and blood streamed from the corner of his mouth. He smiled, "I can regenerate one last time. Just give me a minute." The Doctor managed a saddened smile.

"Doctor! I don't know how to stop this," Jordan called from inside the room. He was standing behind a horseshoe computer console looking completely lost and panicked as he stared at all the buttons.

"I'll stay with him," Martha offered. The Doctor nodded, picked up the sonic and ran into the computer room. He studied the buttons on the panel, frowning in concentration. Finally, he found what he was looking for and waved the sonic over a section of buttons outlined in red. Nothing happened.

"Deadlocked," he frowned talking aloud so everyone can hear him, "Clever man, that Mr. Cantwell, though he didn't think to deadlock the door, now did he? That was just sloppy. But that's not going to stop me from breaking into this thing." He kicked the base of the console. "Ow!" he shrieked in pain, "Blimey! Barefoot. Check." Rubbing his toes, he glanced quickly around the room and his eyes landed on Jordan, "Well, don't just stand there, man! Help me look for a pry bar, axe, anything that will break this open!" Jordan jumped into action as did the Doctor, though with a slight limp.

"Attention Nectar of the Gods guests, you now have two minutes to evacuate this facility and reach minimum safe distance."

After frantic search yielded nothing, the Doctor leapt out of the room and landed next to Martha and the fallen Larson. "Jordan, get on that intercom and tell all the staff to get to the TARDIS," he ordered and Jordan quickly obeyed the order. "Martha, I've got find something to break…" he caught himself and regarded Larson lying on the floor.

He crouched beside the fallen Time Lord. "You're about to regenerate, my friend," the Doctor said softly, "and I need to ask you a favor." Larson looked up at the Doctor's face, and understood. He gave him an affirming nod with a shaky smile. Without a word, the Doctor hoisted Larson to his feet and led him into the computer room. Martha struggled a moment to figure out what was going on, but as she helped the Doctor with Larson, she realized the plan.

"What are you doing?" Jordan asked.

"If they're doing what I think they're doing," Martha answered, "you had better go wait in the hall." Jordan didn't wait to ask any more questions and quickly left the room.

Once Larson was standing in front of the facility self-destruct controls, he leaned over, holding himself up with one hand while the other held the blood soaked laser wound. Martha quickly checked the door man, he was dead. "You'd better…get out of here," Larson struggled to say.

Quickly, Martha and the Doctor headed out of the room, and he paused at the doorway smiling proudly, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," the other Time Lord grinned.

"Attention Nectar of the Gods guests, you now have one minute to evacuate this facility and reach minimum safe distance."

As Larson began to glow, the three onlookers stepped back until they reached the corridor wall. They watched as the regenerating Time Lord exploded into golden energy that lashed out from his body. He directed the energy flowing from his hands into the computer console that couldn't withstand the force. It exploded in a brilliant fountain of electrical sparks and flying bits of metal. Jordan, Martha and the Doctor raised their arms to shield their eyes.

Then the regeneration was over.

"Attention Nectar of the Gods guests, the facility destruction sequence has been disabled."

Lowering their arms, the Doctor, Martha and the technician laughed in relief. "It worked!" the Doctor cheered as he rushed into the room to Larson. "You were brilliant," the ecstatic Time Lord embraced Larson in a hardy hug. "Absolutely brilliant!" the Doctor patted a confused looking Larson on the back, "Look at you!" He marveled at the Time Lord's new face.

Martha ran up, gave Larson a quick hug and looked him over. The Time Lord appeared to be in his late twenties now. He was tall, but not as tall as the Doctor, and he had pitch black hair and light brown eyes. Larson stepped back from the Doctor and looked blankly between him and Martha as if he was thinking of what to say. Martha's smiled widened. "Come on you two," she said, "we have to catch up to Cantwell, yeah?"

"I see no reason to hang around here," the Doctor grinned.

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><p><strong>AN: as always, reviews are welcome!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: thanks to you Galifreyan Queen for the review!**

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><p>When they reached Cantwell's private ship dock, Martha was sorely disappointed to see that the only ship there was the TARDIS. Not that she would ever be disappointed to see that wonderful blue box, it was the lack of Cantwell's ship that made her frown in frustration.<p>

She stood outside the Doctor's time machine while the twenty-six now free 'employees' of Nectar of the Gods entered the ship. She could hear the Doctor barking instructions at them to 'just sit down over there, don't touch anything and shut up'. Why did he have to be that way toward them, Martha wondered, though she could see where the Doctor might be coming from. After all, these people hadn't exactly been struggling to escape.

When the last of them entered the TARDIS, she sighed and started for the time machine. Then she spied a little yellow box with the name of its contents clearly written on the side. Martha smiled as she grabbed up the box and ran into the TARDIS.

She closed the door behind her and saw that the Doctor was at the console programming in the next destination. She sat the yellow box down out of the way next to the ramp, and joined the Doctor. "I can't believe Cantwell got away," she said at last.

"No, he didn't," the Doctor smirked.

She looked around the console room as if she expected the man to jump out at her like the boogey man. "He didn't?" she asked.

"Two Time Lords and a TARDIS," he said evenly, "There's nowhere to hide."

Martha nodded. She guessed that was true and she wondered what the Doctor has planned, but then she is just a passenger, a mere tag-along, in all this. The Doctor pulled a lever down and the TARDIS engines whirred to life. He had told the rescues that he was taking them to a planet, the name of which Martha couldn't remember, but it was a planet where they had the choice to go anywhere they wanted. She looked over at the valets, waiters, and Jordan sitting on the floor against the coral walls. She was happy for them. They were free.

Larson came back from the Wardrobe room and leaned coolly against the console. The Doctor told him he could have any clothes he liked, and Martha had to admit that she approved of his choice. The Time Lord wore shiny black shoes, black jeans, a gray button up shirt and a black wool overcoat that reached his knees. He chose to slick his black hair back and leave the top couple of buttons on the shirt undone.

Dark and mysterious, Martha thought, and a stark contrast to the Doctor who was still in the white clothes from the facility. He hadn't had time to change until now and that's when Martha realized she was still carrying the satchel. With everything that happened, it slipped her mind completely. "Oh hey," she said as she pulled the bag off her shoulder and held it out to the Doctor, "You're probably going to want these."

The Doctor raised his eyebrow as he opened the bag. She smiled when his face lit up. "My clothes!" he exclaimed as happy as a boy on Christmas, "Oh and my coat! Here I was thinking of how I could get another one from Janis. Oh, thank you, Martha!"

"You're welcome," she laughed, "Though you should thank Jordan. He saved them from an incinerator and was going to run off with them before I caught up with him."

The Doctor shot Jordan a cross look. "You stole my clothes?" he asked. Jordan swallowed and offered a nervous smile. "You really need to get out more," the Doctor turned and strutted out of the console room. Jordan tossed up his hands and Martha gave him a wink.

A short time later, the TARDIS landed on the drop off planet as the Doctor promised. The Doctor, back in his blue suit and tan overcoat, and Larson leaned against the console watching them all leave with arms crossed and stern faces. Jordan was the last to leave and Martha was kind enough to tell him thank you, which she said was also on the Time Lords behalf.

As soon as Martha closed that wooden TARDIS door, the Doctor sent them back into the Time Vortex, and she knew it was time to get even with Cantwell.

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A young looking Mr. Cantwell relaxed in a plush velvet chair sipping on a ridiculously expensive glass of a wine. He laughed politely at his new, young friend's stupid little joke. He looked around his lavish surroundings, a large smoking room in a mansion that served as the home of one of the wealthiest clubs in his galaxy.

He couldn't help but feel smug. Sure, he destroyed his facility to collect the insurance money, but he had another, smaller one already built. He escaped the lawsuits from his former clients due to a convenient line in the contract small print, which no one ever reads, clearly stating he was not liable for anything that happened in the facility. He was ready to begin again with new clients paying ridiculous amounts of money to stay young. Now he just needed those precious Time Lords and he was about to meet with a team of some of the best hunters in the universe.

Mr. Cantwell took another sip of wine, and froze. A strange pulsing whooshing noise slowly grew louder, filling the room. "No, it can't be," he said, slowly rising to his feet. A wind manifested itself sending papers and napkins flying around the room as a large blue police box materialized right in the center of the room.

Everyone in the room shared surprised expressions at the blue box, except Cantwell. He wore the look of fear. Cantwell made to sprint around the now solid TARDIS when its door flew open and a man in a black coat stepped out. "Oh, no you don't," the man in black said as he grabbed Cantwell by the collar and threw him into the TARDIS.

He was about to close the door when he paused to look over the shocked faces in the room. "I'm arresting this man under the Shadow Proclamation," he said with convincing authority as he held up a card made of psychic paper. When he saw a couple of nods, he slammed the door and the TARDIS disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

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When Cantwell opened his eyes, he realized he'd been drugged by a tranquilizer. Then he remembered being thrown to the floor of a TARDIS and the one who threw him shot him with a dart gun. One of his dart guns.

Now he found himself strapped into a vertical cryo-chamber and he realized he was at Nectar of the Gods, the place he thought was destroyed. Cantwell finally raised his eyes to look into the faces of the three people who stood before him.

The first face he gazed upon was the closest and it was that of the man who grabbed him. Cantwell wasn't sure who this person was, but he looked quite menacing. Then he looked behind the man at the woman who came with that Time Lord in the blue suit. She stood with her arms crossed glaring at him as if she were looking upon the most disgusting thing she'd ever seen. Next to her was the Time Lord in the blue suit. The Time Lord called the Doctor. Cantwell gulped when he saw the dark look on the Doctor's face.

Looking back at the man in black, "You must be Larson." The Time Lord answered with a dark smile. "You're not going to kill me?" he asked nervously.

"No," the Doctor answered.

"We're going to do worse," Larson said.

Cantwell didn't hide his fear and resorted to the only other thing he knew. "Please, you don't have to do this," he begged, "I-I won't came after you, I promise."

"I tried to save your life, Mr. Cantwell," the Doctor spoke with a deadly tone, "I gave you _one_ chance to stop this. You chose not to stop, and I don't give second chances."

Larson pushed a button on the cryo-chamber. "I was just going to kill you," he said as the glass door slid into place, "but the Doctor does have a flare for poetic justice, I'll give him that. Congratulations, you're going to be young forever."

"NO!" Cantwell screamed, "Not like this! No!"

"Did you know you're aware of the passage of time when you're in cryo-sleep?" said Larson as he waved the sonic over the cryo-chamber, deadlock sealing it shut.

Martha spoke, "And don't even think that if you manage to get out of there you'll be able to use your machine, either machines. We made sure they'll never work again."

The three stood in silence as they watched the cryo-chamber freeze Cantwell solid, his face forever contorted in fear and hate. Martha and the two Time Lords walked out of the room, their vengeance complete.

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><p><strong>AN: Just one more chapter to go! Reviews are lovely!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I would like to thank SlynkiLynx for the wonderful compliment, that really made my day! And my thanks to everyone who took the time to post a review, I appreciate it.**

**Ok here it is, the final chapter! **

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><p>Martha skipped into the TARDIS and headed for the bench next to the console. The Doctor strode in behind her with a satisfied smile and tossed his overcoat into the nook of a coral support beam. Larson walked straight up to the console and stood with his arms crossed still looking dark and foreboding.<p>

The Doctor winked at Martha as she plopped onto the bench and looked at the only other Time Lord in the universe. "Alright, Larson," he said excitedly pulling on a lever launching the TARDIS into the vortex, "I can't wait to show you Earth. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm rather fond of that little blue planet. After all, I did spend a lifetime there. Places can grow on ya like that. Oh, wait till you swim in its blue oceans, bask under its warm sun, oh and the _food_! Bananas! _The_ best in the universe!"

At the mention of banana's, Martha hoped off the bench and quickly moved to the yellow box she'd sat by the ramp. "I'm not going with you," Larson said flatly. Martha froze in shock and slowly turned to look at the Time Lord.

"What?" the Doctor's face melted into pained confusion.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," the other Time Lord said with a voice tinged with anger.

"But, I thought…" was all the Doctor could manage.

"What? We were friends? No," Larson stated firmly, "You were my chance to escape. What did you say earlier? You were my only hope. That's it."

"Wha…Why?" the Doctor struggled to understand.

"I know what you did in the Time War," he eyes narrowed, "That it was you who ended it."

"You weren't there, Larson," the Doctor now defending himself, "You don't know what they became. How the war twisted them into something horrible. They didn't want to destroy just the Daleks, they wanted to destroy time itself."

"After what I've been through for the last thousand years, destroying time wouldn't have been so bad," Larson retorted, "Drop me off where I want to go and that will be the end of it."

Martha couldn't believe it. After everything they went through together, it was going to end like this. She felt awful for the Doctor as she watched him slump in defeat and direct the TARDIS to the planet Larson named. She hated seeing that pained, hurt expression on her friend's face.

When the TARDIS landed, Larson made for the exit without saying a word. It seemed like the longest trip Martha had ever taken. Larson held a steady glare on the Doctor who kept his eyes on floor, and Martha sat on the bench thinking of a hundred things to say. No one said a word.

"Larson," the Doctor called out softly. Larson stopped and turned slowly around like he didn't really want to hear what the Doctor had to say. The Doctor slowly approached the other Time Lord and offered his sonic screwdriver. "I want you to have this," he said, "Take it. Please."

Larson studied the Doctor's face a moment then took the sonic and dropped it in his coat pocket. "You have my thanks for helping me escape, but that's as far as it goes. I'll never forgive you for what you did to Gallifrey. Don't come looking for me, Doctor," he warned, "as far as you're concerned, I don't exist."

The Doctor's mouth opened slightly in heartbreak and he nodded once. Larson abruptly marched out of the TARDIS, slamming the door behind him. Martha wiped away the tears that streamed down her cheeks as the Doctor slowly turned around, walked somberly to the console and sent the time machine back into the vortex without a word.

.

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The Doctor had been moping around the TARDIS for days. Martha was really getting worried because she had never seen him like this, not for this long. At first, she thought it was best to leave him alone for a while, give him some time to himself. She kept tabs on him as he'd silently sit on the bench in the console room, staring blankly at the controls. Or he'd sit on the floor in the Wardrobe Room with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head in his hands.

When she found him sprawled out across the floor in the Library like someone had punched him in the jaw and knocked him flat, Martha panicked. His stared up at nothing and she had to slap him across the face to snap him out of it. That was when Martha decided to keep trying to talk to him. It seemed to be working as she was able to finally persuade him to land the TARDIS on a nice planet somewhere. A change of scenery would do him some good. Only now she faced the next dilemma, the Doctor stubbornly refused to leave the TARDIS.

He told her to go explore on her own, and she did consider that a breath of fresh air would do _her_ some good. But when she stared out at the beautiful, but alien landscape from the TARDIS door, she didn't feel too comfortable venturing out into the strange world without the Doctor. Oh well, at least he was talking now, she thought.

The Doctor leaned against the TARDIS console with a solemn expression and his arms crossed. Martha looked around the room and saw the yellow box. She'd forgotten about it. Again. Quickly, she bound over to the box and brought it back to the console.

"I almost forgot about this," Martha said as perkily as possible as she sat the box down at the Doctor's feet. She saw a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. The first spark of his old self she'd seen in days. She smiled as she opened the box and pulled out the Doctor's favorite fruit, not too brown and not too green. Perfectly ripe. She offered the banana to the Doctor. "I got these for you," she said sweetly.

At first the Doctor just stared at the banana blankly, and then a smile cracked across his face as he took the fruit. Martha's smile grew wider as she saw the Doctor coming around…finally! He drew in a deep breath and nodded with a smile as if he'd made in internal decision. Suddenly, he grabbed Martha up in a tight hug that she happily returned.

"Thank you, Martha Jones," he said happily, "Thank you."

He sat her down and released her. "You're welcome, Doctor," she smiled and then turned a bit solemn. "Listen," she spoke carefully, "I just want you to know that I'm sorry…about…but it's important to move on with your life."

The Doctor felt proud to have Martha as a friend and his expression showed it as he looked upon her. "I know, and I am," he said. She beamed as he eagerly peeled the banana and took a generous bite.

"Alright," he said through a mouth stuffed full of banana. "Raporphius Minor," he continued once he swallowed and looked at the TARDIS door, "What do you say we go have a look?"

The Doctor offered Martha his arm and she happily slipped her hand into the crook his elbow. The Doctor was back. Her Doctor, and she knew everything was going to be alright.

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><p><strong>AN: thanks for reading and I'm glad you enjoyed the story. Please feel free to leave a review, I will still read and answer them :)**


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